Scattered thunderstorms during the evening. Partly cloudy skies after midnight. Low 79F. Winds SE at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 50%..

Scattered thunderstorms during the evening. Partly cloudy skies after midnight. Low 79F. Winds SE at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 50%.

Sam Houston is a syndicated columnist and newspaper executive. He is also an author, actor, playwright, and entertainment producer/promoter.

Though for generations my family have been farmers/ranchers, I was raised in a metropolitan area and thus never had the opportunity to be around horses. I would go to my grandfather’s for a week or so in the summer but other than when I visited, it was simply impractical for me to have many horse experiences.

I had always wanted to be a cowboy. When my mom passed, I found where she had saved my cowboy handkerchief that I had used in grade school. I would tie it like a bandana around my neck so I could look western. Even when I got past the little boy stage, I never lost the desire to be a cowboy.

Once I graduated from college and began my career, I set my mind to buying a horse. I went through quite a bit of research, did my homework and learned the proper way to take care of an equine. I then secured a location where I could keep my new amigo.

After a lot of searching, I bought Dan. He was a 16-hand bay ranch gelding who had worked hard on a cattle ranch nearly every day in his life. He was 17 years old and was broke to do just about anything a ranch hand would ever ask. While still sound, Dan had gotten to the point in his life where he simply could not work hard every single day. But as an occasional riding horse for me, he was perfect. He was “bomb” proof safe, meaning he had no buck in him at all and was easy to catch and saddle. He was smart, good looking and friendly.

I had taken riding lessons, but an old cowboy friend told me the best way to become a good rider was to create a lot of wet saddle blankets: that is, ride regularly. So, almost every night after work, I would drive out to where I kept Dan, saddle him up and take off. There was a neighbor who had given me permission to ride in his 640-acre pasture. Dan and I would open the gate, ride in and then go wherever we took a notion to.

Riding was tremendously relaxing for me. The smell of the saddle, the creaking of the leather, the feel of the horse and the sound of his hoofs hitting the ground, created a sensory intake which caused my heart to swell and my face to smile. We would walk, run, or trot, all over every inch of those 640 acres. Many nights, I would ride up to the gas station on the highway and get something to drink before putting Dan back in his pen. Over time, the owner of the station set a hitching post for me to tie Dan to when I was in the store. There were not many nights that we missed riding.

One late afternoon, I received a call from a neighbor that his cows had gotten out. He wondered if I would get my horse and come help get the cows back in to where they belonged. I was so excited I could not control myself! I practically ran out of my office, drove to where Dan was located and began to get him saddled. This was going to be a chance to really “cowboy.”

I quickly got Dan and when I finished getting him saddled, I jumped up on his back, shouted something about “let’s go get those cows, Dan,” and then sunk a little spur in his flank to speed him up. That’s when I learned my lesson. Dan took two steps forward and then dropped his front shoulders and kicked up his hips. It wasn’t really a buck, but it was enough to make a novice like me to come off the horse, falling straight down Dan’s neck. I hit with a thud, but still holding onto the reins. Nothing was hurt but my pride, and while sitting on the ground, I could feel Dan staring at me.

In my entire life, my father never scolded me as much as Dan did that day. He looked down at me with those big soft brown eyes and stared right through me. I could hear his subconscious say, “Look here son, I have caught more cows than you have ever ate hamburgers. Get your behind back up here and I will go catch them up for you, but I am too old for any of that ‘yippee ki ya’ stuff.”

Believe me, his message was very clear. I slowly and humbly got back on Dan, and we headed off to work. We helped others get in the escaped cows, and fortunately, we did not let my lack of experience make things more difficult for the others. Dan carried me through it.   

I had a lot of great rides with Dan. He never, ever, threw me off again. And I never, ever, considered sinking another spur into him. I like to think we were both better off after our little teaching session.

Thought for the day: The only thing more painful than learning from experience is not learning from experience.

sam@hcnews.com | 817-573-7066 ext. 260

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